


Summonings Are Always Good Ideas

by getluckywithbucky



Series: Choices 'Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M, Righteous Man!Castiel, Role Reversal, angel!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-10
Updated: 2012-04-10
Packaged: 2017-11-03 10:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/380384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/getluckywithbucky/pseuds/getluckywithbucky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel was pulled out of Hell by something, and he's content to just leave it at that. Jimmy isn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summonings Are Always Good Ideas

Castiel wasn't actually expecting the summoning to be successful in finding whatever had dragged him out of Hell. Fuck, he had honestly expected to never actually find out what it was and to just move on with his life as best as he could. It wasn't like he could just go back to his job, but he could find something else, somewhere else, right? It wasn't like he had never been out of a job because of hunting before. This time, it had just seemed like it was going to be permanent.

Not so much, apparently.

It had been Jimmy's idea to keep trying to figure out what it was that had saved him, and Cas had never really been able to deny his twin anything, whether it be going by his middle name starting in kindergarten because Jimmy hated how "Jimmy and Joe" sounded together or selling his soul to a Crossroad demon to bring him, recently murdered by some fucked up monster with a grudge against Cas, back to life. 

Jimmy had a life. A real one, even, and Cas hated to ever drag his so-very-normal brother into the hunter lifestyle that he himself had fallen into. Jimmy had a wife, a great little girl, a boring 9-to-5 job, and a mortgage, and he was happy, which was all Cas had ever wanted for him. But the four months that Cas had been dead - forty years of torture in Hell - had been its own sort of perdition for Jimmy, who had spent the entire time, between consoling his wife on the death of her best friend and keep up with his work, trying to find a way to bring his brother back.

But it wasn't Jimmy -and that conversation had gone badly (harsh words and bloodied fists) - because nothing he tried worked and no demons would deal. Despite this, Cas was topside and while he was fine with leaving things alone, Jimmy wasn't and it had been a glimpse of the handprint-shaped burn on his left shoulder that had sent the younger twin over the edge.

Which was why the brothers ended up waiting in n old abandoned barn just outside Pontiac, home and grave both, hoping for a glimpse of the _thing_ that they hadn't been able to get a firm reading on, not even a name, just an impression. The hand-print was their only link, and Jimmy had firmly believed that it would be enough to bring it, whatever it was, to them.

They had spent hours painting every known bonding and protective symbol onto every reachable surface, but Castiel had no confidence in them being even remotely effective. They didn't know what it was, which meant it wasn't likely anyone else - hunters included - knew what it was either, nor how to contain it or protect against it. They didn't know because as far as they could tell, _nothing_ could pull a soul out of hell, and this thing  _had_. Whatever it was, it was more powerful than anything anyone had encountered.

When it finally made its appearance, it was almost anti-climatic. Between one blink and the next, there was suddenly an extra person in the room, sitting, casual as can be, next to Castiel on the work bench the brothers had commandeered for their tools and weapons. He was taller than them, with short light brown hair, bright green eyes, and a slathering of freckles across his nose and neck. Broad shoulders were covered by a dark henley and dark denim encased his rather nice, from what the elder Novak could see, legs. He was handsome, Cas acknowledged, but looks weren't really a good indicator of  _goodness_ , and before he could really react - and before Jimmy had even noticed him - the thing-disguised-as-a-man leaned forward and cleared his throat.

"So, what're you guys trying to summon? Because, seriously, that's some sloppy spell work right there."

Jimmy had jumped into action before Castiel had even thought to, but the apparent man had been prepared for it - he hadn't even managed to grab a weapon before two fingers found his forehead, and the younger Novak, unconscious, had slumped to the floor. At that, Cas reacted, jumping from the table and hurrying to his brother, at the same time the thing-disguised-as-a-man said, "Eh, don't worry about him, he's gonna be fine. He's just taking a little nap while we talk, okay, Cas?"

It knew his name - so it was specifically him, not a fluke. Blue eyes locked on amused green, "Who are you?"

The being shrugged, "That's not the easiest question to answer. I mean, you guys have spent thousands of years asking yourselves that same question, right? So why should I be able to just tell you in a few words billons of years of history?"

Castiel stared at him, and to his surprise the being shifted on his feet - bowlegged, Castiel noted, and what kind of monster would be _bowlegged_? - before grinning at him, almost shyly, "But you're just asking my name, and I'd like to tell you, I really would, but it's not the right time for that. Not yet. But you can call me Dean. It's close enough to being my name that I'm not lying about it. I don't lie."

He played with the thought, trying to piece together what the combination of details meant together. He came up with nothing. "You want me to call you _Dean_."

"Yep. And you're Castiel. Well, Joseph Castiel Novak, aged 34, hunter by night and once upon a time you shoved knowledge into the minds of America's impressionable youth. You're an all-around good guy. But I gotta know, man, how do you plan to get that job of yours back?"

Cas looked away from Dean, back down to Jimmy, still unconscious on the ground. "I don't."

"Bummer. But I guess that's what happens when you sell your soul and go slumming in Hell."

Cas turned back to Dean, scowling at the obnoxious being. _This_ had pulled him out? This obnoxious man-shaped being was his saviour from eternal torment at the hands of an endless streams of demons? "I didn't have a choice."

"Great thing about being human, Cas - you've alway got a choice."

The barn is silent for a long moment, hunter and  _thing_ staring at each other, and sizing each other up - or, rather, Castiel sizing Dean up while Dean just watched him with amusement. "What  _are_  you?"

Dean quirked his lips, "Why, Cas! I figured you'd know! I mean, you've got the same name as one of my brothers."

Cas, unsurprisingly, was drawing a blank.

"C'mon, you're smarter than this, dude." Dean took a step forward, suddenly only a few inches away and Cas couldn't get himself to back up, couldn't bring himself to stop meeting those too-green eyes. Dean was almost chest to chest with him when he continued, the scent of the air before a storm accenting his words, "I'm an angel of the Lord, Castiel. And yeah, I pulled you out of the fire, but, I'm sorry, I had to toss you back in the frying pan."

The hunter honestly hadn't even considered the idea of an  _angel_  being the one to save him. He'd seen so many horrible things, but never any sign of anything like what stood before him now, pressed close (and if he were completely honest, Castiel didn't protest the closeness) to his chest. He didn't even think to question their existence, Dean's words. After all, if demons existed, why not angels, too?

But there was one thing he couldn't understand, and when he spoke, his voice was small, its normal gravel barely a whisper, "Why?"

Dean lifted his hand (was it his hand? Cas found himself wondering if angels had to possess someone, too), fitting it over the exact spot beneath Castiel's jacket where the handprint was burned into his flesh (Cas wondered if it went even deeper than that), and he couldn't stop the full-body shudder at the electrified sensation the angel's touch had sparked. Suddenly, he felt almost peaceful.

The angel smiled, just the barest upward quirk of his lips, "We've got work for you, Castiel."

"You said humans always have a choice. What if I say no?"

Dean's smile widened, his grip on the hunter's arm tightening ever-so-slightly, "You're a good man, a truly  _righteous man_. You won't say no."

Castiel watched the angel for a long moment, but it had never really been a question of whether or not he'd do it. "What do you need me to do?"

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a few role reversal posts I saw on tumblr. It sort of begged to be written instead of actually paying attention to the lecture in my religion class. My lack of studiousness is your fic gain. This may become a 'verse.


End file.
